


Hospital Chair

by charlidoodle



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlidoodle/pseuds/charlidoodle
Summary: Picks up where the last episode (season 18 episode 5) left off!
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 16
Kudos: 102





	Hospital Chair

**Author's Note:**

> it's cheesy I know but I couldn't help myself

Bishop texted her the room number on her drive over and her eyes were now frantically scanning the hospital doorway labels. Arriving at 301b, she rested her hand softly on the door handle, peering through the window that was only partially covered by curtain. For anyone who didn’t know Gibbs, they would have assumed he was asleep in the chair at Tim’s bedside. He had been in there for almost 12 hours already and there was no sense of alertness behind his closed eyes. However, for his team, they knew,  _ she  _ knew, he never slept during hospital visits. 

Her theory was greeted with a stamp of approval as the sound of the door opening queued his tired eyes to do the same. He looked older, though she would never tell him that. His face was worn, beaten by his brain too many times to count. She knew what it was like to hold all the broken pieces in her mind and think maybe she could only hold onto so many, or worse, maybe she didn’t deserve anyone to help her pick them back up when she lost control. She wasn’t sure how her presence would be received but his soft smile was a good sign. The palm he opened up to her when she reached out for him was another. Her fingers intertwined with his instantly. 

“Hi,” Jack whispered with a warm smile. 

“Jack,” he replied, his eyes only leaving Tim for a moment. 

“Been in here awhile,” she said, tapping the toe of her boot against his. 

“Not leaving,” he countered almost instantly. She knew it would have been in a much sterner tone if there wasn’t a sleeping, injured agent beside them. 

“Oh, I know you better than that,” she replied, squeezing his hand before removing hers entirely from his grasp. His eyes traced her lingering fingers up to her eyes in such a hurry that she almost blushed.  _ Almost _ . 

“Skooch,” she said, swatting his arm that rested on the scratchy blue chair. 

“Hmm,” mumbled Gibbs, a trace of confusion coming over his exhausted blues. 

“You heard me,” she said, pushing his arm more forcefully this time, “make room.” 

He looked down at his lap and then back up at her and she could almost see the sizing calculations going on inside his head.

“I ain’t bugging the nurse for another slightly less atrocious chair,” she teased. 

_ So she was the one who called to have the nurse bring in the cushioned chair in exchange for the plastic one.  _

“And,” she smiled, reaching into the big tote bag she had slung over her shoulder, “I brought a blanket!” 

He shook his head slightly, fouling no one with his gruffness. Haphazardly, he shuffled in his seat, creating about a foot of room between his hip and the armrest. In fairness, the chair was quite small. 

Completely unphased, Jack turned and planted her butt in the makeshift space with her back leaning up against the armchair. She curled her knees up, the majority of which landed on Gibb’s lap, and threw the blanket over the both of them. She wiggled around for a couple more seconds before meeting his eyes with a sense of great accomplishment. 

“You mind if I crash here for a little bit?” Her question was soft and genuine and it tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

“Only ‘cause you brought a blanket.”

She let her smile fade into the silence. He let his eyes drift back to Tim. There were only a few minutes of quiet between them but he felt miles away. A deep blue swirling with a lighter one in his eyes introduced a form of regret that was new to her. Wiggling her fingers around it only took a few seconds to find his hand and secure it in her lap. 

“You had to,” she whispered, beginning to stroke her thumb back and forth over his. 

“Jack, I-” His eyes closed at the sound of his voice cracking. 

“I know,” she shushed, moving her head to rest on his shoulder, “I know. Tim will be okay.” 

He didn’t respond but he squeezed her hand and that was enough. Pushing the blanket up higher on their chests, she continued to brush her thumb over his until her eyes could no longer stay open. She prayed his eyes would follow. 

\- - - 

She woke up to the sound of his snoring. It was louder than she expected it to be but still goddamn cute. 

“Kept telling Boss he snored too loud in Paraguay but he never believed me.” 

She jumped at the sound of Tim’s voice, effectively waking her chair partner. 

“What!” Gibbs gasped, tightening his grip around her hand that he still held. Scanning Jack’s face he quickly found her eyes glued to Tim’s.

“Mornin’ Boss,” Tim whispered, smiling as best he could. 

“Tim,” he exclaimed, a mental sigh of relief washing over his entire body. 

Jack squirmed, attempting to gain feeling in her legs again so she could stand. They must have been quite a sight. Her hair felt like it was standing 2 ft tall, all of it splayed across Gibbs’ shoulder. Her legs had remained tightly bent in his lap and her entire body was essentially wrapped around his torso. Placing both feet on the ground, she stood and immediately bent over to wrap McGee in a warm hug. Gibbs’ hand fell to the back of her leg to stabilize her. 

“It’s good to see those eyes open,” she whispered in his ear. “Promised Mr. Snorer you’d be okay.” She gave him a teasing wink as she stepped back. 

Tugging the remainder of the blanket from Gibbs, she tightly wrapped it around herself and exclaimed, “I’ll call Delilah”. 

“Thanks, Jack,” whispered McGee. 

“I think you owe a bigger thank you to the man who shot you,” she chuckled. 

Tim glanced up at Gibbs. And then Jack. And then Gibbs. 

“You SHOT me?” 

Jack flashed Gibbs a big smile before slipping out of the room.

\- - - 

The nurse tried to navigate through the agents the best she could to get to McGee’s bedside for some release form signing. Delilah sat on the side of his bed, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Bishop and Torres stood at the foot of the bed joking with McGee about his seven lives and Gibbs sat grinning softly in the chair. Jack stood in front of him, hand clutching the bed railing, laughing along with everyone. That was until she felt his arms reach out and rest on her waist, carefully pulling her backwards and into his lap. She turned to face him, not even attempting to hide her utter surprise from his gesture. 

“Thank you for staying,” he whispered as the chatter in the room forged on. 

“Of course,” she smiled widely, internally cursing at her cheeks for all the warmth they were suddenly emanating. 

“Not jus’ tonight Jack,” he added, glancing down at his hands which now resting on her lap.

Throwing all care out the hospital window, she reached up and lightly tapped under his chin to encourage eye contact. Her eyes were so big and her smile was so sweet that it was practically instinct for his hand to shoot out and circle the side of her neck. 

Their noses were within centimetres of each other when Torres called out, “Oh just kiss her already!” 

Gibbs’ lips gently claimed hers. Her eyes fluttered shut and for the second time that day, his followed. It was a short kiss, respectful of the audience they had just been reminded of. She buried her smile in his neck once he drew back, not ready to brace the stares and teasing she had just opened herself up to for the rest of time. Smiling like a little kid, Gibbs looked back up at his team,  _ his family _ , whose hearts were practically melting out of their chests all at once. 

“Glad I shot you, McGee,” he conceded. 

“Yeah, me too Boss. Me too.” 


End file.
